


Charmed

by paraboobizarre



Series: Charmed [1]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-11
Updated: 2009-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraboobizarre/pseuds/paraboobizarre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill has a charm bracelet and every charm comes with its own little story...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charmed

It was already early morning when Bill stumbled into his hotel room. Tom, who had left their birthday party maybe five minutes before him had left the door open for him. In the pitch black of the room, Bill stumbled over a suitcase that lay open near the door, stubbing his toes. Curses already forming at the back of his throat, he bit them down at the last moment when he saw a tiny form huddled under the sheets on the king sized bed. Tom.

 

 

Blindly groping his way from the door to the bureau, from there to the couch, Bill plopped down on the soft cushions with a heavy sigh and began to wrestle with his cowboy boots, dropping them right there on the floor before he struggled out of his jeans and shirt, everything seemingly sticking to him. It had been unbearably hot down there in the bar and Bill felt the fine sheen of sweat drying up on his back as he tiptoed past the bed and quietly shut himself in the bathroom.

 

 

The bathroom smelled of Tom's shower gel, lemons somehow, the air still humid from his brother's shower probably only minutes ago; a heap of soggy towels in one corner, Tom's discarded boxer shorts in the other.

 

Bill quickly stepped under the spray, scrubbing his make up off with normal shower gel, gurgling some of the warm water to get the smoky taste out of his mouth; when the water hit his hair, melting away the carefully constructed lion's mane within seconds, he could smell all the smoke from the downstairs party dissolving into a cloud of mist and lavender shampoo.

 

 

Haphazardly toweling his hair off, Bill quietly let himself out of the bathroom again, shivering as a breeze wormed its way through the windows Tom had cracked open before going to bed. Tom's overnight bag lay open on his side of the bed and Bill hastily picked a shirt out of it before he set it down at the foot of the bed.

 

 

The sheets were crisp and starchy against his toes as he slipped under the duvet, a whispering sound as he wriggled deeper into the neatly made bed. Biting down a giant yawn, he looked over to the lump on the other side of the bed, stilling one moment to listen to any potential sounds that might indicate he had woken his twin up. All he could hear were deep and even breaths, a slight wheezing sound on every exhale, the last remnants of a nasty cold that had plagued Tom for over two weeks.

 

 

The dim whirring of traffic forced its way in from the outside, faint rumbles of thunder in the distance, the odd flash of light zapping over the floor and their bed, oranges and yellows, and Bill turned on his side, staring out the window into the gray smoky cityscape outside. It would be light soon, in two hours, maybe three and for the first time this evening he felt truly tired.

 

 

Fluffing up the pillow under his head, Bill's knuckles connected with something hard, sharp edges. He pulled himself up, flicked on the bedside lamp and reached under his pillow.

A small black box, scratchy velvet on the outside. Not being able to quell the maniac grin that started to tug at the corners of his mouth, Bill flipped open the little box, leaning closer towards the cone of dull light at his bedside.

 

 

There, neatly pinned onto a cushion of black satin lay a tiny, silver pendant. The number 9. Looking over his shoulder, still finding Tom fast asleep, Bill inched out of the bed again, crouching down next to one of his bags.

He had the round, black and white striped box within a matter of seconds. Opening it, spilling out its contents on the comforter, he reached for a bracelet that had fallen out along with all the other knick knack.

 

 

It was silver as well, a heavy chain, a tiny charm dangling from each free link. With pointy fingers, trying somehow to force his fine motorics to cooperate with him despite the early hour, Bill fumbled for the chain that held a silver one and eight; unhooking the eight he threw it back into the box and put his new nine on it instead.

 

 

Nineteen. God, was he really 19 already...  
The silver pendants clicked against each other as he brushed through the procession of tiny charms, neatly clasped on one after the other, so many of them it all became a blur of silver, red, black and blinking crystals.

Right there, towards the end of the chain, was a tiny silver dress, painted with pale pink enamel. Melting back into the cushions, Bill picked out the tiny dress, bringing it up close to his eyes and inspecting it more closely. When had Tom given him that particular one?

Oh right! After that one evening they were alone in their studio apartment...

 

♥ ♥ ♥

 

 

 

He had never had stage fright like that before a concert; even their very first big one seemed like a breeze compared to how his nerves were fluttering now. Palms pressed flat against the bathroom counter, his head hanging between his shoulders, flat hair falling into his face and obscuring his vision, Bill could feel his blood thrum through his ears. His palms were sweaty, condensation already gathering under his skin against the smooth tiles of the counter; it felt like his fingertips were wrinkling up from all the moisture. Bill groaned and washed his hands – for the fifth time in the last ten minutes under the cold tap – drying them off on the by now soggy towel on the handrail.

 

 

An unfamiliar face followed him in the bathroom mirror. Soft hair, brushed flat and shiny and pulled back into two low pigtails. Pink satin ribbons, tied into tiny bows. A tight shirt, light pink, a Hello Kitty! with a lollipop on it. The short plaid skirt, black, gray and pink.

Why did he not use some tan lotion on his legs? They ended in knee high black boots but when he took a few steps back to look at himself, all he saw was a boy with stork like, spindly legs, bony knees who wore girl's clothes. This would never ever work...

 

 

“Bill?”

 

 

A knock on the door and Bill jumped in surprise, clutching at his chest, feeling his heart race even more.

Frantically, spinning in circles, Bill looked for something, _anything_ to wear instead of what he had on now. It had been Tom's suggestion but he had said it after a long night of drinking, surely close to passing out, and he had probably not even been serious and even if, this was certainly not what his twin had had in mind when he had said it and just-

 

 

“Bill are you in there?” Tom sounded concerned and Bill could almost see the tortured frown on his brother's forehead as he heard that particular tone of voice.

Unlocking the door, but still jamming one foot against it, Bill dared to open it just a crack, peering out into the room behind it.

 

 

Tom was right in his face the next moment, pressing up against the door. Bill could feel the weight against his shoulder and he crowded further against the door frame, twisting at an awkward angle to hide as much of himself as possible.

 

 

“What's wrong?” Tom tested the resistance of the door again, frowning when it wouldn't budge. His brother's fingers curled against the door, steadily pressing inside, his expression growing more and more irritated when Bill wouldn't let him inside.

 

 

“Umm...let me in?” Tom asked, his eyes flitting over Bill's face, trying to peer inside.

 

 

“Why?” Bill whipped himself internally for being so childish and stupid. And Tom, being his ever sensitive self, never giving up, never noticing all those subtle signals.

 

 

“Bill, let me in the bathroom or come out of there but this is really stupid.” Tom's fingers brushed over his knuckles, when suddenly his gaze dropped down.

“Are those boots new?” His twin's foot nudged against the tip of the boots and Bill stepped back for just a moment, trying to pull his feet out of sight. It was all Tom needed to finally press open the door and step into the bathroom.

 

 

“Umm...” Bill crossed his arms over his chest, feeling his kneecaps press against each other as he stood awkwardly under the unflattering light of the bathroom, trying to dwarf himself, wishing himself invisible.

 

 

An uneasy silence settled between them, with Bill staring intently at the tiled floor, feeling himself burning up and watching Tom's feet as they shuffled back and forth in front of him.

 

 

“You...” Tom started but trailed off. He huffed quietly, his sneakers squeaking on the tiles as he took a step forward.

“This is – ”

 

 

“It was just a stupid idea,” Bill blurted out, suddenly regaining control of his legs again. He pushed past Tom, storming out of the bathroom, spluttering a weird mix of explanation and excuses on his way out.

 

 

“Remember that one night in Brussels and that bar where we...like, you said back then, I mean you were drunk but it kinda stuck with me so I...got those freaking clothes, thinking maybe you'd like that,” Bill slumped down on the couch, burying his head in his hands. The pigtails fell over his shoulders and he could feel the odd strain from the tight pony tails, wanting nothing more than to rip the bows off his hair as quickly as possible.

 

 

“Clearly a stupid idea,” he muttered under his breath, digging his fingernails into his scalp. He had painted them pink as well, white tips. He had thought it looked cute. Somehow.

“I just look ridiculous...”

 

 

The dirty tips of Tom's sneakers crept into his field of vision, settling in front of him, between Bill's legs. The tiny living room table groaned under his twin's weight.

 

 

“You did that for me? Because I said, I'd like to see you dressed up as a girl once?” Tom asked, his voice oscillating between slightly unbelieving and impressed.

 

 

Bill threw himself back into the cushions, his hands raised as if in surrender. What did it matter now, really – he had already made a classic fool of himself.

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, still feeling ill at ease, his knees pressed together awkwardly.

“Surprise...” Bill snarked, rolling his eyes.

 

 

The next thing he heard was Tom's amused little chuckle, his twin's shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles, cheeks already flushed.

Irritation welled up in Bill as he watched his twin, disbelief plastered all over his face. Here he was, trying to do Tom a favor, embarrassing himself royally in the process and Tom laughed...

 

 

Grabbing one of the throw pillows next to him, Bill slugged Tom in the shoulder with it, huffing in annoyance.

 

 

“Stop it! That's not funny, Tom!” He squeaked, socking his twin in the arm again. By now Tom was wheezing, his face bright red, eyes suspiciously shiny. Gasping for air, Tom wiped at his eyes, a maniac grin on his face.

 

 

“You look cute,” Tom offered, snagging the pillow out of Bill's hands and hugging it to his chest but Bill just flipped his brother off, leaning back into the sofa again and letting his legs fall open, assuming a more comfortable position.

 

 

“Fuck you...” He muttered, absentmindedly scratching at his crotch. Those tiny girl panties were murder.

 

 

“Not very lady-like,” Tom quipped, pointedly grabbing both of Bill's knees and pushing them together again, “but really cute...”

 

 

“Cute?” Bill teased, feeling that well known, exhilarating rush of self-confidence surge through him again.

“I was more aiming for hot but I think I will accept the cute for now,” he drawled, quirking one eyebrow.

 

 

He could practically feel the atmosphere around them change, the way things shifted between them. Bill crossed his legs, wiggling one foot, nudging Tom's shin softly.

Tom made a curious noise in the back of his throat, leaning back, propping himself up on his hands, _really_ looking at Bill for the first time.

 

 

“You do look kinda hot...” Tom eventually conceded, pulling himself to his feet and grabbing Bill's wrist. Staggering after his brother, trying to inconspicuously tug down his short skirt while he walked, Bill followed Tom's lead.

His twin plopped down on the foot of the bed, throwing off his caps in one swift move before he turned to Bill, looking at him expectantly.

 

 

Trying to fake self-confidence, Bill cocked out his hip and sucked in his stomach. He brushed one of his pigtails behind his shoulders. The shirt was incredibly short sleeved and Bill was painfully aware of the way his arms seemed extremely bony and naked.

 

 

“Turn around for me?” Tom asked, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees as he squinted up at him. The amused expression on Tom's face was gone and replaced by something else, a keen interest somehow, still with slight traces of his initial confusion, a watered down version of the look Bill knew only too well...

 

 

Putting on his best enigmatic smile, Bill did a slow full turn in front of his twin. He had no ass, he was flat as an ironing board and all in all he looked almost painfully thin in these clothes, even more so than usual but when he turned to face Tom again he knew it had worked. Tom's jaw was slightly slack and he wiped his hands on his pant's legs almost compulsively. With a shaky hand Tom motioned at him to come closer.

 

 

“This little alter ego of yours will haunt me,” Tom muttered, running his flat palms up and down Bill's sides, rucking up the shirt a bit on their way up, before Tom smoothed it down again, tugging it down, so it chastely covered the waistband of the skirt.

 

 

“It's still me...just different clothes,” Bill replied, feeling strangely insecure all of a sudden; he couldn't help it, secretly he always compared himself to the girls who fawned and fussed over his brother. What if Tom really did like girls better and only needed time to realize that, what would happen when the right one came along one day?

 

 

“Yeah, still the same...” Tom ran light fingers down his thigh, over his knee to where the boots ended, zippers on the insides of Bill's calves.

“Only a different packaging...and I get to unwrap you now?” He asked, nudging the zipper of the left boot with one hand, pulling it down just a little before he zipped it up again.

 

 

Bill nodded, helpfully lifting one foot on the bed, then the other, as Tom opened the knee high boots and pulled them off his feet.

“Nice toes...” Tom muttered, nudging Bill's foot and tracing one finger over the smooth, pink nailpolish, before his hands closed around Bill's hips, pulling him closer with a swift move. Bill stumbled forward, momentarily loosing his footing, ending up with his belly pressed right against Tom's face.

 

 

His twin's breath grazed his skin, hot even through the material of the shirt. Tom's thumb rubbed against his side again and again and he took a deep breath, letting his head fall into his neck and looking up at Bill. There was a faint pink blush on his cheeks and Bill couldn't help but smile.

 

 

“Cute _and_ hot...” Tom whispered, his chin moving against Bill's stomach as he spoke. The Hello Kitty! shirt was pushed up to his midriff, nimble fingers slipping under the garment, softly tickling his sides. Tom pressed a kiss to a spot over his belly button, letting his lips brush over the soft skin there, murmuring quietly under his breath. His hands slipped to the small of Bill's back, fingers fanning out and pulling a completely unresisting Bill even closer.

 

 

Warm, open mouthed kisses strayed down his stomach, across his belly button, Tom's tongue quickly lapping at the tiny inlet of his navel before the kisses meandered down slowly, towards the waistband of the little skirt. Tom nipped at the button, biting down on the cotton material and pulling back, before he nipped at the skin just above. Bill squeaked, his hand coming down on the crown of his brother's head, petting the matted hair there.

 

 

The button on the skirt slipped out of his hole and then Tom suddenly stopped; a subdued gawking noise could be heard and then Tom's head tipped back again.

“You shaved?” He asked incredulously, his fingertips flitting over the small patch of exposed skin.

 

 

Bill blushed, a wave of heat crawling up his spine. He nodded.

 

 

“Like... _all_ over?”

Bill nodded again.

 

 

The room did a double take around him when Tom grabbed him by the hips and spun him around. Moments later Bill landed on the soft mattress, gasping in surprise; the next moment Tom was pressing up against him, roughly pulling at him to get him even closer.

 

 

Bill's weak protest was muffled by a kiss that made his toes curl against the crumpled sheets, his fingers scrabbling ineffectively at the bedding before he managed to awkwardly wind one arm around Tom's neck, petting the hot skin there, feeling his brother's pulse fast under his fingertips.

 

 

Tom purred low in his throat, the kisses getting more clumsy and excited, before his lips slid down over Bill's jaw to his neck. A few soft kisses later, Tom started to suck on the spot at the side of his neck and Bill realized, in a rush of trepidation and bubbling excitement that he would have a hickey there in the morning.

 

 

He squirmed against his brother, Tom's hand rubbing his belly, occasionally sliding higher up his shirt, the damn girl's underwear growing tighter with every passing moment. Squinting down the length of his own body, Bill saw the plaid skirt stretched taut across his hips, a pronounced bulge right between his legs and his head flopped down against the pillow again; sighing quietly in defeat, he wriggled on the mattress, his dick feeling squashed in the girl's panties.

 

 

Maybe sensing his discomfort, though more probably just eager, Tom started to fiddle with the zipper of the skirt, pulling it down, briefly brushing against the lump between his legs. Bill gasped, his legs twitching involuntarily even at this light touch. Tom chuckled, face still pressed into the crook of Bill's neck.

 

 

Tom rolled on his back, grabbing Bill's thighs and clumsily pulling him into his lap. Bill wriggled into place, the skirt riding up his thighs as he straddled Tom. Immediately Tom's hands followed, stroking the soft skin right up there, nudging the skirt up higher just a little bit.

 

 

“This is better than I thought it would be,” Tom muttered, glassy eyes flitting over Bill's form, dropping down to between his legs every so often.

“Take off that shirt?” He tugged on the hem of it, winking at Bill.

 

 

When Bill pulled the shirt over his head, he was enveloped in a cloud of powdery perfume; another one of those little touches to make things more real. He tossed the shirt at his twin, who caught it in one hand, bringing it up to his nose and smelling it before he tossed it off the side of the bed.

 

 

A sweaty palm closed over the nape of his neck and pulled him down, into another series of kisses. More controlled this time, these were the kinds of kisses that made every single muscle in Bill's body melt and he let himself go limp on top of Tom, his legs splayed awkwardly around his brother's, his chest pressed against Tom's.

 

 

Tom twirled one of the pigtails between his fingers, making the soft strands brush against Bill's naked shoulder, further adding to the goose bumps that already prickled down the length of his back. He didn't get these kinds of kisses often, that perfect mixture of soft and teasing, deep and sucking, just the right balance of give and take. Tom's lips closed on his upper lip, sucking just lightly, his free hand running down over Bill's back before it landed on his rear end, squeezing his ass possessively, forcing Bill to grind against his erection.

 

 

Bill moaned into the kiss as Tom set a slow pace, making them drag against one another, pushing his skirt up higher and higher in the process, till it was little more than a crumpled ring of cotton orbiting round his hips.

Tom's fingers pushed under the elastic of the panties, not going down nearly as far as Bill wished he would; instead, the rough fingertips traveled across the small of his back, just under the frilly elastic.

 

 

Bill mewled softly, wiggling his hips to urge Tom to slip his hand down further. He was painfully hard by now and that tight, pink lace horror he had squeezed himself into today wasn't helping much either.

 

 

Tom tugged teasingly at the elastic, grinning into the kiss, he could feel the way Tom's lips curled into a satisfied smile against his mouth. Suddenly the room around him spinned and moments later, Bill found himself lying on his back with Tom grabbing his legs, pulling them up into the air where they came to rest against his shoulder.

 

 

The look Tom gave him was positively predatory and Bill couldn't help but blush under the intense scrutiny.

 

 

"I'd like you to still wear the skirt when I fuck you..." Tom all but drawled, running his hands over Bill's hips and toying with the elastic of the panties before he cupped that rather prominent bulge and gave it a good squeeze, making Bill gasp and press his legs together involuntarily.

 

 

Tom's fingers hooked under the pink elastic, pulling slowly. Bill held his breath as if he was anticipating something life-changing to happen. The shaved skin felt more sensitive, like he could feel every single centimeter of his body of his body bristling with a sudden awareness to his brother's touch.

 

 

The panties pulled up easily, dragging against his freshly shaven skin till Tom pulled one of his legs out of it, leaving the pink lace to orbit round Bill's other leg.

Tom looked down on him, a strange sort of amazement written all over his face, like he couldn't believe his own eyes.

 

 

"You're sexier than any girl could ever be," Tom breathed almost reverently and Bill's blush went from light pink to a deep and hot crimson. Somewhere deep inside him there still was a part that always felt just a little inadequate and it was just so reassuring to hear these things, he could literally feel his heart skipping a few beats.

 

 

Tom let go of his legs, putting them back down on the mattress just as gently as if Bill was made out of glass before he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the tube of lube they had left there last night.

 

 

Bill breathed out and melted back into the cushions. This was still his favorite part of the entire foreplay, Tom fingering and stretching him out. It was that part that was only about him and Bill loved the care and attention that was lavished on him, sucked it up like a sponge.

 

 

"Now if you were a real girl," Tom began and Bill could feel his heart sink in his chest, "I wouldn't get to do this, which would really be a shame..." Tom teased, flashing him a knowing smile as if he had noticed the slightly sinking feeling that had crept up on his brother.

 

 

The lube was cold but Bill didn't mind too long as Tom took his sweet time working his fingers up his ass, pushing up against his prostate till Bill was writhing almost uncontrollably, his mind spinning and his stomach doing violent flip flops in his middle.

 

 

It was almost like a feeling of loss when Tom eventually pulled his fingers out and proceeded to lube himself up. Bill reached for his brother, letting his finger follow Tom's as they ran gently over the hard column of flesh, before he nestled the head in his head, fluttering the tips of his fingers against the sensitive underside, watching Tom's lashes flutter in response to the touch.

 

 

Bill was surprised when Tom picked up his legs again, hoisting them up to his shoulders and making Bill slide through the rumpled bedding till his backside hit Tom's knees. They hardly ever did it like this. It was a bad position for kissing, Bill thought, an almost pout forming on his face.

 

 

"Let's do it like this..." Tom whispered, running a flat palm over Bill's stomach, as he inched closer, his cock nudging up against Bill's ass.

"I want to watch you when you come." And with that he pushed in, making Bill's eyes roll up into his head. He felt Tom work himself up all the way in till their bodies were pressed together, not an inch remaining between them.

 

 

Suddenly Tom bent forward, Bill's splayed legs sliding off his shoulders to hook up over his twin's elbows while he was bent almost in half by Tom's weight towering above him. Hot air washed against his face with every panting breath Tom took. Tom inched up further, hitching Bill's legs over his arms properly before he bent down to kiss him and Bill gasped into the kiss, his entire belly going flaming hot all of a sudden as Tom's cock pressed up right against his prostate.

 

 

The kiss was gentle and slow, with Tom barely rocking against him, but soon Bill's fingers clawed against the bedding, sweat gathering on his forehead and temples and he wheezed out a breath as Tom pushed up against him even harder. Eventually he had to wrench away from Tom's lips, barely managing to rasp out a 'move, goddammit', he felt that breathless, like he had just run a marathon.

 

 

Slowly, way too slowly in Bill's opinion, Tom began to roll his hips against his ass, pressing against his spot with every cycle, making Bill's insides flaming hot, his legs turn into jelly. Tom is so close Bill can taste every short, labored breath, tastes the air that smells like all things Tom, that special perfume he would recognize anywhere, at any time.

 

 

He can't really tell how much time has passed, for when Tom is like that with him time becomes something outside of him, dwindles down to absolute non-importance. At some point Tom lets go off one of Bill's legs and grabs his cock instead, pumping him in time with his thrusts, which have come harder, faster and more erratic by now. Every exhale tips into a low moan and Bill feels his orgasm build up fast, the way everything starts to tingle from his toes to his fingertips and every tiny cell in him pulls in on itself, his whole body curling tight, waiting for that one big release.

 

 

He comes panting and cursing, splattering warm, white liquid over his belly up to his chest, some even on the skirt and the pink panties. Tom growls under his breath, his fingers closing in a fist over the stained lingerie as he pulls him up into a couple of vicious thrusts before he too comes, collapsing on Bill's prone form, breathing heavily.

 

 

It's ages before either of them can move again. Eventually Tom rolls off him, a satisfied and lazy smile on his face. Bill gingerly re-arranges his limbs on the bed; his ass burns and his legs are sore from the awkward angle but looking at his twin, Tom running his fingers along the creases in the skirt, he knows it's been worth it...

 

♥ ♥ ♥

 

 

Next to him, Tom stirred in his sleep, rolling over on his back with a quiet groan. Bill stilled for a moment, waiting till those even breaths returned. Tom's hair was a mess, dreads spilling all over his pillow and his face, but under all that tangle of dark blond hair, Bill could still see a tiny flash of soft dark brown, peeking out from under the heap of blankets.

 

 

His fingers flitting through the pendants, looking for one specific one, Bill frowned. It should be here, he hardly ever took it off. After a few clumsy fumbles he found it, right there in the middle, between a tiny black sneaker and a bright red, enamel cherry...

 

 

 

♥ ♥ ♥

 

 

 

At first Bill hadn't suspected any out of the ordinary. Everyone had a bad day every once in a while. Nobody seemed to care much at that point either. Unlike Bill, who had the habit of lashing out and throwing impressive tantrums when he was mad, Tom was more the brooding kind.

 

 

All day long Tom sleep-walked through work; interviews, take a couple of photos, meeting with management, discuss the schedule for next month – Tom was hardly there at all. He just sat glumly next to Bill, a sombre, somehow far away look on his face. When they were herded back onto their bus, to be taken to their fourth city within the last ten days, Tom wandered off to his bunk immediately and didn't not come back out for the rest of the evening.

 

 

If Georg and Gustav had noticed the untypical behavior at all, they chose to meticulously ignore it. Bill, however, kept stealing furtive glances down the aisle to where the curtains to his brother's bunk were drawn, worry starting to gnaw away at his insides.

Maybe Tom wasn't feeling too well, there was that nasty stomach bug going round that had already taken out Saki a couple of days ago; or maybe it was just exhaustion. He hadn't done anything to piss his brother off, had he?

 

 

Later the same evening, with Georg's light snoring as a backdrop, Bill slipped out of his bed, socked feet tiptoeing across the narrow aisle to his twin's bunk.

The air in Tom's bunk was cold, the tiny bull's eye window opened as far as it would go, the ding of passing traffic reverberating through the confines of the bunk. Perching down on the edge of the mattress Bill was surprised when the form huddled against the wall of the bus moved and turned around.

With a groan Tom turned on his back, squinting up at Bill with bleary eyes.

 

 

“What's wrong, huh?” Bill asked quietly, mindful that Gustav was probably still awake. He scooted towards the foot end, drawing his legs up to his chest and nudging his brother's toes with his own.

Shrugging one shoulder eloquently, Tom muttered unintelligibly under his breath. The corners of his mouth turned down so far, his forehead wrinkled up beyond belief, he looked a good five years older than only a couple of days ago.

 

 

“Just...down, I dunno.” Tom pulled his blanket up to over his shoulders, his feet pushing up against Bill's.

“It's really dumb but yeah...” He muttered, trailing off again, rubbing his face roughly, a deep sigh following instead of a real explanation.

 

 

Bill had the hardest time to bite down the big smile that threatened to settle on his face. Tom was an unfortunate mixture sometimes; feeling eternally responsible for Bill, the picture perfect big brother, Tom always thought his worries were trivial and nothing that bothered him was ever important enough to share it with other people. Truth was, Tom hardly ever worried; unlike Bill who was so much of a painful perfectionist he tended to be thrown off by even a minute change in plans, Tom was never disturbed by any of the big things. It was the little things that got to Tom like nothing else. An unexplained scratch on his very first guitar, that one time Bill had forgotten his name day, that sort of thing.

 

 

“Come on,” he softly jiggled Tom's thigh, “tell me what's bugging you.”

There was a short pause and Tom dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning deeply.

“It's only me, Tom...nothing to be embarrassed about,” Bill joked, giving his twin his best encouraging smile.

 

 

“It's my bear, okay?! I lost him!” Tom blurted out, throwing up his arms over his head in defeat.

“Your bear?” Bill echoed hollowly, not fully understanding. He coked his head to one side as realization eventually began to dawn on him.

“You mean, your _teddy_ bear?” Bill asked, not even aware that his eyebrows were slowly vanishing up in his hairline his eyes were this big by now.

 

 

Tom simply groaned again and rolled on his side, tucking his arms close to his chest, pulling his legs up.

“Told you it was stupid,” he muttered sulkily before he closed his eyes again, effectively terminating their rather short conversation.

 

 

Bill sat motionless for a few more minutes, waiting for Tom to unroll himself again and continue talking to him but Tom was very much occupied with pretending to be asleep so Bill stole out of his bunk again, crawling back into his own bed. He stretched out, staring blankly at the low ceiling above him as he thought about Tom's missing teddy bear. There had to be some way to find him again; bears didn't just dissolve into thin air...

 

 

Bright and early next morning, Bill was bouncing up and down on his heels in front of a rather disgruntled looking David, who grumbled and rubbed at his eyes non-stop as he put together a list of places they had stayed in the last two weeks, complete with phone numbers and all. Sheets fresh out of the printer, Bill snagged them and bounded off again, sing-songing something about a rescue mission as David called after him...

 

 

Talking to receptionist clerks was horror. Pure and utter horror. And it got even better every time Bill mentioned _why_ exactly he called...

 

 

“A what?!”

“Could you repeat that, please?”

“Ummm...”

“A teddy bear?”

“Prank call...very funny. Not!”

 

 

And then they usually hung up on him. Bill was this close to finally giving up but determined to work off his list, he stubbornly let himself be rejected and made fun of time and again.

They had a few minutes before they would be herded off to lunch and Bill had snuck out into the underground parking garage of the hotel to have a smoke; digging out the battered and bruised list out of his back pocket, he slumped down on a rough block of concrete, dialing the last but one number on the print-out.

 

 

He only half listened to the confused chatter of the clerk, as he went through his little standard text he had already delivered too many times to count.

“A teddy bear...like, dark brown and totally ragged?”

Bill almost slipped off his concrete block, the cigarette hanging limp out of the corner of his mouth as he stuttered out an affirmative.

 

 

Three days later, one of the many PAs slipped quietly through the door to Bill's dressing room. Under her arm she had a lumpy package, a tattered manila envelope that bulged out in the middle. With a barely suppressed roll of her eyes, the PA put it down on the cluttered make up table before she vanished again, muttering quietly under her breath. Bill squinted at the envelope, trying to somehow decipher the sender's address while the make up girl applied his mascara with a mind-numbing precision.

 

 

As soon as he was alone, Bill practically lunged forward and grabbed the package, opening it immediately. Just the scent that invaded his nostrils when he opened the envelope told him this was the right one. Carefully he pulled the teddy out by one limp limb; it really was Tom's teddy. Bill would have recognized that brown fur, almost rubbed bald round his belly, those peculiar opaque eyes anywhere. When he lifted the teddy up to his face, rubbing his nose against the softness, all he smelled was his brother. Soap and a little hair wax, the heavy warmth of Tom's bed, the unique scent of his brother's skin.

 

 

There was a knock on the door and Bill hastily stuffed the toy back into the envelope and hid that one in his bag just in time to hide it from Tom who opened the door moments later.

“We gotta dash in like...five minutes,” Tom announced, leaning against the edge of the table and rooting in his deep pockets to produce a bottle of coke moments later. He tossed it at Bill who caught it awkwardly against his chest. It was still cold, drops of condensation clinging fast to the label.

 

 

“Why are you smiling like a total lunatic?” Tom scratched at his neck, stretching and contorting in weird ways like he always did when excitation was starting to bubble up in him, the early stages, and he still tried to hide it.

 

 

Bill simply shrugged, taking a sip of his coke, wincing slightly as the cold drink made his front teeth hurt. He pulled himself up to his feet and grabbed his bag, glancing at it shortly to make sure the envelope was safely tucked inside, hidden by the zipper.

“Come on, let's go...” He suggested, pulling Tom upright and hooking his arm under his brother's as they walked out into the hallway. Tom rolled his eyes but didn't pull away.

 

 

Tom had had that teddy bear ever since Bill could remember. It had been one of the few toys that had expressively belonged to Tom, unlike all of the other toys that got swapped between them. He used to have a name, or rather, names; they had changed on an arbitrary basis for some time. At one time Tom had even taken to calling the teddy Bill, which had been, for then five years old Bill the greatest compliment imaginable.

 

 

It had been a long time indeed since Teddy had had a name, Bill mused as he sat in his bunk bed, Tom's bear cradled in his arms, wide awake despite the late hour. Everyone else was already fast asleep, probably even Tom even though he had had trouble falling asleep lately.

 

 

For a long time, from the time Tom was about ten right up to the time they got signed, Teddy sat, lonely and forgotten, in a corner up high on a shelf in Tom's room. Why his twin had packed the bear into his bag the first time they were away from home for longer then three weeks was still a bit of a mystery to Bill. Teddy had his renaissance when their life on the road began – a bit of home for Tom to take with him everywhere he went. Needless to say others liked to pick on Tom for the fact that he still lugged around a children's toy with him wherever he went, but he usually shrugged it off with a benevolence and a calm that still managed to impress Bill.

 

 

Brushing one of Teddy's soft ears against his cheek, Bill hugged him close, inhaling Tom's scent one more time, before he jumped out of his bed and tugged open the curtain to his twin's bunk without preamble, slipping in.

 

 

Tom was so fast asleep by now he didn't even stir when Bill closed the curtain again and lifted up the duvet to slip in under the covers behind him, spooning up. It was a bit of a struggle but eventually Bill managed to lift one of Tom's arms away from his chest and wiggle Teddy into the tight embrace of Tom's arms as they lay crossed over his chest. In the faint light of the bus Bill propped himself up on one elbow, looking down on Tom as he lay curled up in front of him, the bear now in his arms, marveling at how right this all looked to him, before he scooted down and hid his face in Tom's back, falling asleep soon afterwards.

 

 

“Bill...”

“Nngh.”

“Bill...” Bill's world shook, or maybe it was just the bus. Speed bumps...

“Bill! Wake up!”

Oh, right. That was definitely Tom's voice. Everything shook again and Bill reluctantly cracked one eye open. Surely it was too early to get up again; it felt like he had fallen asleep not more than five minutes ago...

 

 

Everything was still dark around him, only Tom's face hovering centimeters above his, illuminated with a strange kind of halo from the little reading light clipped into the corner of the bunk. Bill scrunched his eyes shut, flailing awkwardly with his hands stuck under the blanket as he tried to find his bearings. Cool hands pushed the comforter down over his shoulders, before they traveled up again, brushing against his cheeks. Above him Tom smiled, still somewhat sleepy himself, his eyes shiny – from sleep or because of something else Bill wasn't too sure.

 

 

Tom reached under the blankets between them, producing a limp teddy bear, its dull eyes staring sadly at Bill in the half light of the bunk.

“You found Teddy again?” Tom asked, his voice thick with some emotion Bill couldn't place right away.

He nodded, squinting through the dark, still feeling disoriented as hell.

 

 

“Phoned around...some hotel in errr..” Bill waved in lieu of a city name, “maids found it when they cleaned up after us.”

 

 

Bill let out a muffled sound as Tom leaned over him so suddenly, the bear got squashed between them on Bill's chest, all the air leaving his lungs for the few moments Tom was on him, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

 

 

Finally Tom pulled back again, smoothing Bill's hair out of his face before he scooted down again and pulled the blankets up to their shoulders. The light was flicked off again and the bunk around them, once again, completely dark.

Little circles of lights still dancing all across his field of vision, Bill felt Tom scoot up closer, Teddy's soft fur brushing against his arm as his twin snuggled up to his side.

 

 

“Best baby brother ever...” Tom muttered and Bill smiled goofily up at the darkness above him, before he turned on his side, snuggling deeper under the blankets till all he could smell was Tom and the bear and fell asleep right away again.

 

 

Three days later he found the pendant of a tiny silver bear on his pillow when he got on the bus in the evening.

 

 

 

♥ ♥ ♥

 

 

 

Carefully raising one of the tiny movable limbs of the teddy bear pendant, Bill studied it thoughtfully for a while before he let go of it again. Tom hadn't so much as stirred once since he rolled on his back, his face completely relaxed, mouth slightly open, breathing deeply.

Bill sighed and lay the charm bracelet down in his lap. He was hardly tired anymore, all the reminiscing and his by now impressive lack of sleep had left him feeling oddly awake, alert to every single noise, from the light hiss of rain outside to the far away howling of an ambulance horn.

 

 

The little Eiffel Tower that always seemed to fit right between his thumb and index – Tom had given him that one a day after they had watched the fireworks from the roof of their hotel in Paris. That one night had been different than most others.

Tom, amped up with liquid courage, had held his hand while they watched the fireworks, vigorously ignoring the strange looks this behavior garnered. He had even stolen a kiss from Bill in the staircase as the others weren't looking their way. Still thinking about that one night made Bill's insides churn with a peculiar sense of excitement.

 

 

Right next to it a tiny lemon, painted with a shining yellow enamel – for Bill's snappy days, when he was in a sour mood. One of the more tongue in cheek pendants Tom had given to him.

A tiny pair of sunglasses, their first Maldive's holiday without anyone from the band or crew – all on their own. That little silver plate that said VIP in bold black letters, one of the first ones he had gotten, right after they got signed.

 

 

Bill chuckled quietly, weighing the heavy chain in his hand when he suddenly stilled, a particular pendant catching his eye...

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [ParabooBizarre @ Livejournal.com](http://paraboobizarre.livejournal.com/)


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